


lusting for more than just old dreams

by mercutionotromeo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Begging, Bottom Harry, Camboy Louis, Daddy Kink, Daddy Louis, Desperate Harry, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Frottage, Hair-pulling, I know I tagged this as porn with plot it's basically just a bunch of porn, Kink Discovery, Light Dom/sub, Louis has such a dirty mouth jesus christ, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, PWP, Panties, Phone Sex, Pillow Fucking, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Sexting, Slow Burn, Smut, Sub Harry, Top Louis, Voyeurism, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, minor: - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-21 21:58:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13152843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutionotromeo/pseuds/mercutionotromeo
Summary: A flicker of a smirk spreads across Louis’ face as he thumbs over Harry's waistband.“Those feel pretty,” He says smoothly, then easily unzips the fly of Harry’s jeans and peers down at the sliver of visible lace.“Oh, look at that. I was right.” He leans in close, hot breath tickling Harry’s ear. “Pretty.”A soft, pretty, delicate fic featuring camboy!Louis, Harry with a desperate crush, and - of course - Daddy taking care of his baby.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! :-) Long time no see! Before I get to the background of this work, I'd like to draw your attention to a work I published several months ago that's been anonymous until very recently. It's called "Precious Little Thing", and I genuinely think it's the best thing I've ever written, so please check out my account and give it a read if phone sex, kink exploration, pining, and Daddy Louis are interesting to you.
> 
> I digress - here's the first chapter of a work I started awhile ago. Basically, I wanted to write a camboy!Louis fic that had different dynamics than other works I've seen in the past.. In real life queer relationships, softness and prettiness doesn't correspond to certain sexual dynamics/roles, and I think it's important that LGBTQ+ fiction reflects that. So this work is meant to be just that: soft, pretty Daddy with his soft, pretty baby, because Daddies can be soft and pretty, too. Hopefully you'll see my characters go on somewhat of a journey with that theme as I write! 
> 
> Not sure how often I'll update it, but I've got the first few chapters mostly done, so we'll see how far I get before the new year. Hope everyone had a lovely holiday! Enjoy :-)
> 
> Title: new scream / turnover

Ever since his early adolescence, Harry’s had a rather embarrassing secret. He’s only ever been able to get off in one specific way. One - erm - _nontraditional_ way.

He can’t get off by fucking his fist - can’t even come from fingering himself. No, if Harry wants to come, he has to do it by helplessly rubbing off on something. Doesn’t matter what it is, really - mattress, blanket, cushion. It just has to give him friction.

It’s not the most glamorous way to come, of course, but it didn’t occur to him to even _be_ embarrassed about it until he got older. He’d gotten off this way for so long because it felt good, and he’d perfected the method - there just didn’t seem to be any reason to change it.

Then, of course, he went to university, and he started to realize that fucking a pillow isn’t exactly the sexiest thing in the world. For one thing, it’s virtually incompatible with sex. On his first failed hookup at uni, the guy had actually laughed himself soft when Harry told him how he’d have to get off. That night was embarrassing enough to make Harry want to change. 

Ever since, he’s made it his mission to teach himself how to get off in, like, a _normal_ way. Of course, he’d made that resolution… almost four months ago. Sadly, he’s made very little progress since.

It’s another Friday night, and Harry’s nearly finished with his weekend “me time” routine. It always starts with a few guilty pleasure episodes of The Walking Dead, followed by pad thai and a long bubble bath (complete with face masks and fancy bath oils, of course).

He’s just wrapping up in his fluffy purple robe when he feels it - a little spark, stoking a flame in the pit of his belly. He hums happily, still dripping wet as he makes his way through his tiny flat to lock the door. Seconds later, he’s on his back in bed, shyly tugging his robe open.

Porn might make this easier, but tonight he can’t be arsed to open his laptop and find a video that doesn't make him cringe. Instead, he shuts his eyes and tries to recall what got him off last night. His cheeks color when he remembers.

It's almost too easy to imagine. In his head, he's on his knees for Daddy. Not someone specific, of course - just... Daddy. A voice in his head that takes the form of whoever he happens to be hopelessly in love with that week. He licks his lips and reaches behind himself to nudge a knuckle against his rim, breath catching in his throat.

"Mm. Feels good, Daddy," He sighs, letting his thighs fall open. His cock's already thickening up between his legs, getting all pink and swollen. Harry makes a soft sound in the back of his throat.

"Wanna play with my hole, Daddy. Can I?" 

He fishes in the sheets with his other hand, trying to find the dildo he discarded last night after succumbing to his old ways and fucking the mattress til he cried. His fingers close around cold silicone.

A minute later, his rim is messy with lube and he's pressing a second finger in alongside the first. 

"Mm - mm, _fuck_ \--" He whimpers, scissoring them apart and brushing lightly over his prostate.

He shakily drags his fingers back out; his cock, resting against his belly, pulses out another bead of pre-come. It's _so_ hard to not touch, but Harry forces himself to focus on slicking up the toy in his hand. He presses the tip of it against his rim, so slick that it slips a little. "Fuck," He gasps, hands shaking as he slowly pushes it inside. 

The stretch is full, like always, but it's a good fullness - a nervous, excited burn. His heart pounds in his chest as he lets the toy bottom out inside him. Maybe his cock should have more of a reaction to this feeling, but all it does is twitch against his tummy. 

By the time he gets into a good rhythm, fucking himself shallowly, he's already losing hope of coming like this. Changing positions sometimes helps, so he gets unsteadily to his knees and grips the headboard, sitting back on his heels. His cock brushes against his pillow, and he aches for the rough friction.

No - _no_. He’s not going to give up and rub himself off on a pillow, just like he always does. He bounces feebly on the toy, breath catching in his throat as it nudges against his prostate. He can tell it’s no use; there’s a dry heat scraping at his skin, bubbling in the pit of his belly, but it won’t crash into a wave without that friction he so desperately craves.

His brow furrows as he spreads his legs wider so he can take the toy deeper, until it’s practically massaging his prostate; his cock only pulses miserably against his belly. Tears start to form in his eyes - and fuck, no, he’s not gonna cry again, there’s no reason to cry - aaaand he’s crying.

Jesus, he’s pathetic. Can’t get off in a fucking normal way. He’s so hard - so so desperately, _achingly_ close - but not close enough. He makes a weak whimpery sound and stares down at his cock, jaw set, but it’s no use. Frustrated, angry tears slip down his cheeks at how fucking  _pathetic_ he is.

Exasperated and helpless, he slides gently off the toy and flops belly-first onto the mattress, crying out as his cock makes contact with his pillow. It’s almost sad how quickly he comes - he fucks against it maybe five times, hips snapping down weakly, and then he freezes as the heat in his belly overtakes him.

* * *

He wakes with a start some time later; the room’s pitch black, so it must be quite late now. Sure enough - one glance at the alarm clock tells him it’s half past three in the morning. He groans and drops his head back against the pillows because he’s fully hard between his legs again. Doesn’t even remember what his dream was about, but his cock clearly loved it. 

The heat in his belly is licking up his torso, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Sighing, Harry wraps his hand loosely around his cock. There’s no point in trying to rub himself off again because he’ll be too raw; if he can’t come from his hand, he’ll just have to try to go back to sleep.

He pumps his hand shallowly, experimentally. The fire in his tummy burns hotter. A few more tugs, and his cock’s pink and swollen, drooling pre-come onto his tummy. His cock’s all wet, slicked up with pre-come so it slides smoothly through his fingers, but it doesn’t help. He strokes himself again, tightening his grip this time, but it's fruitless.

Annoyed, he gropes in the sheets for his laptop. If he had something to help him - _someone…_

With tired eyes, he types in the seediest google search he can manage and clicks the first result - something about “live sexy camboys”. The screen immediately fills with pop-up ads, all declaring that he's won a free iPhone.

"Shit, shit, shit -" Harry hisses as he frantically rushes to close them all. He _really_ can't afford to buy another laptop right now, even though he desperately needs to. The one he has now is absolute shit - all of the USB ports simply refuse to work, and the buttons on the trackpad constantly get stuck.

After a few panicked seconds, the screen is finally clear of ads, revealing the homepage of the camboy site again. Harry doesn't even look at the names of the video feeds, just clicks the first one he sees.

The quality is fucking horrible at first - so pixelated and grainy that he can hardly even make anything out. After a second, it suddenly clears up, and something in the pit of Harry’s stomach squeezes.

There on the screen is a gorgeous golden-tan boy with the prettiest brown hair - and he’s totally naked. He’s seated in a pile of silky pink blankets, and his legs are crossed to hide his cock. If Harry squints, he can see that he’s totally smooth and clean-shaven down there. He swallows thickly, watching as the man blushes a little, cheeks lighting up in a pretty pink flush.

“Stop it, you,” He says teasingly, and his voice is just as beautiful as he is. “Getting too greedy there, lovely.” He purses his lips and leans forward, like he’s reading the screen of his laptop. His mouth quirks into a smirk.

“I’d like to give a warm welcome to all 64 of my anonymous guest viewers. I hope you’ll stay awhile.” He flicks his gaze down toward his crotch, then lets his legs shyly fall open to reveal his cock, pink and half-hard against his thigh. “We have fun here,” He breathes with a flirty smile.

Harry’s heart very nearly falls out of his ass, but he composes himself enough to wrap a hand around his cock.

“For those who don’t know me, I go by Apollo. But you can call me whatever you like.” His hand creeps down his chest, thumbing over his pretty nipple and then sliding down to touch his cock lightly.

“I was thinking I’d have a little fun, hm? Does that sound nice, boys?”

Harry gulps, transfixed by the way Apollo wraps a delicate hand around the base of his cock; he squeezes himself for a second, then drops his hand to his thigh and rubs it softly.

Harry’s heart sinks a little before he can help it because he knows how boys like this get off - usually split open by a glittery toy or plug. Not that Harry particularly _minds_ that, of course - a fit boy is a fit boy. It’s just that it makes it harder for _him_ to get off, cos he’s generally the one that likes taking it, feeling so full and stretched.

Having to work harder to imagine himself in their place doesn’t make things any easier. To his pleasant surprise, however, Apollo fits his hand loosely around his cock and thrusts into it experimentally. He hums happily, then pops the cap on the lube next to him and pours some into his palm.

“You all know I like having something to fuck, hm?” Apollo murmurs teasingly as he warms the lube up in his fingers. The air leaves Harry’s lungs in one breath. The thought of this pretty creature getting _inside_ him, having his way with him… It’s too overwhelming for words.

On the screen, Apollo gets up on his knees and starts to work his hips in a shallow pace, moans stuttering and breaking through the speakers.

”Mm… Mm, that’s it,” He breathes, shaking his fringe out of his eyes. Harry gnaws on his bottom lip, stroking up and down his cock with one knuckle. Apollo starts to fuck into his fist properly, and the  _sounds_ he makes, Jesus... Needy little "oh's" and quiet gasps sound from the speakers. 

Harry's cock twitches against his stomach, smearing pre-come all over the downy hair there. 

"Oh..." Apollo breathes, and he must be getting close because he stops fucking his hand and collapses back against his pretty pink sheets. He lies there for a second, cock slick and pulsing, and then drags his hand up to his nipple. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry groans as Apollo runs a finger over it. 

"Feels so good," Apollo whispers. "Gonna come for you - I can't hold out." With that, he pinches his nipple, arching his back and desperately crying out. 

The effect on Harry is immediate. He manages to gets one hand wrapped wetly around his swollen cock, tugs at it twice, and falls apart all over his tummy.

Fucking Christ, he's never come so hard in his life. Feels like it lasts ages, shuddering through him in wave after shaky wave. By the time it's over, his thighs are trembling and there's white ribbons all across his chest and belly. He feels woozy and out of it, like he does when he's been awake for a few days straight or something.

Harry’s still seeing stars as he goes to shut his laptop, but just before he does, there’s a peculiar chirp sound. Narrowing his eyes sleepily, he squints down at the corner of the screen. There’s a green light blinking on a new chat window with --

“Fuck - fuck, fuck, fuck,” Harry groans inwardly, kicking himself. His trackpad’s gotten stuck again, this time on the "thumbs up" button for Apollo's video. He quickly jams his nail under the button, unsticking it, but it’s too late - the notification ticker pops up with “Guest083489349 left 126 hearts on this video!”. Harry whines, annoyed at himself, and opens the chat window. _Shit._

 **KingApollo:** I think you fell asleep on the like button, love ;-) thanks for all the hearts, though

 _Fuuuck_. He types out a response as quickly as he can.

 **Guest083489349:** fuck, sorry!!! Didn’t mean to

A second later, there's another chirp.

 **KingApollo:** I don't mind, honey. Did you enjoy yourself?

Harry swallows thickly. There's a lot he wants to tell him - primarily that he's just made him come _normally_ for the first time - but all of it sounds too needy and embarrassing. 

 **Guest083489349:** Definitely. Loads.

He doesn't even realize the innuendo until he sends the message, but fuck it - it's the time and place for a joke like that, isn't it?

 **KingApollo:** That _is_ my job, after all ;-)

Then, another message comes through before Harry can type out a response.

 **KingApollo:** good night, lovely. Stop by again sometime, will you?

He scrambles to type back, smearing come all over his trackpad in the process. He wrinkles his nose, trying to wipe it off as he types. 

 **Guest083489349:** wait !! will you be on again tomorrow?

There's a low bell sound effect, and Harry's message pops up with a little red caution sign next to it. "Message Unsent - Recipient Offline", the screen tells him. He groans and shoves the laptop off his lap, wiping come off his fingers with the sheets. He needs to do laundry tomorrow anyway.

So... Mr. Apollo has been very helpful - far more helpful than Harry had hoped he'd be when he clicked on his video.

He stifles a yawn as he runs a knuckle over his soft cock, smiling inwardly because, fuck, it's really nice to not feel pathetic after getting off for once. Harry definitely wants to feel like this _a lot_ more in the future.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe you’re naughty for me when we fuck. You tell me all the things you’ve wanted me to do to you."
> 
> Harry swallows loudly at his words; his hand shakes as he wraps it around his cock. Onscreen, his camboy shifts and lies back. He makes a little breathy sound as he shoves his hand down his panties to stroke lightly at his cock.
> 
> “Maybe…” He says. “You tell me something you’ve never told anyone. You tell me a secret, in private. You wanna call me something in bed. Something that feels naughty. You wanna call me…” He pauses, panting. “Y-you wanna call me...”
> 
> Harry bites at his lip, struggling to keep from fucking up into his hand.
> 
> “Daddy,” His camboy finally whispers, a grin spreading across his face. "You want me to be your Daddy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, another update! Thank you for all the positive feedback on my first chapter - I'm having so much fun writing this work! The smut in this chapter is honestly some of my favorite I've ever written. I couldn't allude to pillow fucking without actually writing it, hahah. Hope you like it!

Harry’s dead on his feet at work the next day; coming as hard as he did last night appears to have given him some kind of weird hangover. He has to shuffle boxes around in the back room for an hour because he doesn’t have the energy to pretend to be cheery to customers.

His job is at a tiny mom-and-pop grocery store, stocking shelves and cashiering at the weekends. It’s an alright gig, really - the gentleman who owns the shop pays him rather nicely for the work, and his wife loves to make Harry sweets and biscuits.

Still, he wishes he were anywhere else right now. Namely, he wants to be on his back in bed at home, watching old videos from KingApollo's camboy page. Instead, he’s organizing shelves of jarred peaches in the storage room.

A bell tolls three times from the front of the store, calling him to the register. Harry groans, knocking his head back against the boxes behind him.

“Coming,” He sighs irritably, making his way to the till.

Thankfully, the distraction ends up being his boss telling him to go to lunch early, as the shop’s fully stocked and the flow of customers has died down. 10 minutes later, Harry's sipping on an overpriced green smoothie at the cafe down the road.

It's probably not the best thing to do in public, but he starts swiping through his newly-acquired Grindr app. It still feels a little odd that he has it. The thing is, Harry’s really not the kind of person who’d use Grindr. Quick no-strings-attached fucks aren’t exactly his style - given the whole pillow fucking thing. He's also shy and awkward and clumsy and, like - people describe him as "pretty" more than they describe him as "hot" or "sexy".

He’d felt emboldened by his little escapade last night, though, so he downloaded the app just to _browse_.

“That’s a bit forward,” He murmurs, because this must be the fourth dick pic he’s gotten since his break started.

The men on this app all clearly want one thing, but Harry isn’t gonna lie - all of the “hi, baby” and “wanna fuck you” messages are going to his head and making his whole body pleasantly warm.

He suffers through a polite five-minute conversation with an overzealous man who opens by asking Harry if he’s into pissplay. _Very_ forward indeed. The other profiles he sifts through aren't much better, and soon enough, the clock is telling him to get back to work.

He spends the last few hours of his shift staring off into space, daydreaming about Apollo and his pretty cock. It's not like he's private about it, either - when he goes to the toilet to check if his semi is noticeable, his cheeks are flushed red and his pupils are the size of saucers. His boss thankfully sends him home a half hour early when a customer has to repeat her method of payment four times.

"Feel better, son," His boss calls as he leaves, probably fretting that Harry's not getting enough sleep.  

The tube ride home feels like it takes ages; it's all Harry can do to keep bouncing his leg and biting his lip. His cock’s still a little raw and sensitive, but he finds himself aching for that tight wet heat he felt last night.

Unfortunately, the exhaustion of a day's work sets in once he's let himself into his flat. He sleepily eats leftovers from an Indian takeaway, then ends up falling into bed fully-clothed and passing out with a hand shoved halfway down his pants.

* * *

 

When he wakes up, he feels _very_ needy. It's the middle of the night, and it's absolutely freezing in his room - he should get up and turn the heating on, but he can't be bothered. Instead, he grabs his laptop off the side table and browses his history for the camboy site.

After a few tiring minutes of closing numerous flashing ads for “male enhancement” pills, he finally gets to KingApollo’s page. There are no live feeds tonight, but Harry sees that he posted a video earlier in the day. He clicks on it curiously, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

When the video starts, Apollo is sitting in his lovely pink blankets again, but there’s something different about what he’s wearing. Namely, he’s not naked this time. He's got panties on. Very pretty pink ones. They’re cotton with a sporty striped waistband - not too fussy, but Harry’s mouth waters at the way his soft cock stretches the front of them.

Apollo’s paired the panties with some pink-striped tube socks, the ones baseball players wear. God, Harry wants him to fuck him in the locker room or something.

“Hi, sexy,” Apollo breathes, smirking at the camera. “Nice of you all to drop by and see little old me.” He palms himself through his panties, jaw dropping slightly.

“I'm up for a little roleplay tonight, boys. What d'you think? What goes with my outfit tonight?” He leans forward to read comments, still fisting at his cock through the front of his panties like he can’t help but touch himself.

“Oooh. Ball boy, that’s nice.” He narrows his eyes, reading the next one. “Assistant basketball coach? Mm, not sure about that one.”

His breath catches in his throat as his thumb grazes over the head of his cock.

“High school boyfriend on the varsity team.” The corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk. “Now _that_ I like.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry swears under his breath, struggling to shove his trousers down to his knees underneath all of his blankets. The scenario Apollo picked is fucking -- god, he doesn’t even have words for how hot it is.

Apollo leans back against the wall, letting his legs fall open to show off his panties and his half-hard cock.

“Let’s see…I'm your high school boyfriend,” He sighs, steepling his pretty, delicate fingers. “Yeah... Maybe you’ve had a crush on me since freshman year. Maybe you’ve been getting off to my yearbook picture for ages."

Harry moans softly before he can help it, eyes locked on Apollo's cock.

"Maybe, out of nowhere, I finally asked you out after my football game.” Apollo grins, one hand aimlessly trailing over his pretty tan tummy.

“And maybe you’re naughty for me when we fuck. You tell me all the things you’ve wanted me to do to you.”

Harry swallows loudly; his hand shakes as he wraps it around his cock. Onscreen, Apollo shifts and lies back. He makes a little breathy sound as he shoves his hand down his panties to stroke lightly at his cock.

“Maybe…” He says. “You tell me something you’ve never told anyone. You tell me - _oh_ \--”

He pauses, squeezing his eyes shut. It looks like it takes a great effort to slow his hand down, but he manages.

“Fuck, sorry -- Where was I? Oh, yes.” He smirks, tugging at himself slowly and deliberately now.

“You tell me a secret, in private. You wanna call me something in bed. Something that feels naughty.”

Harry moans pitifully, pulling at his cock with a dry hand. It hurts, but he doesn’t even care. Apollo starts jerking himself in earnest, working himself over roughly.

“You wanna call me…” He pants. “Y-you wanna call me...”

Harry bites at his lip, struggling to keep from fucking up into his hand.

“Daddy,” Apollo finally whispers, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah. You want me to be your Daddy. You wanna be my baby. But it’s okay.” His brow furrows as he continues touching himself.

“It’s not naughty to want that. I wanna be your Daddy, too. And I wanna take care of you - call you ‘baby’.”

Apollo clearly likes pressure on his cock when he gets close, because his legs have slowly been closing over the last minute. He gives in and lets them close even more, tipping his head back against the wall behind him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” He says, but it comes out as a full-on whine. “What do you think about that? You wanna call me ‘Daddy’, baby?” He manages, trying to continue, but his hips have started to rock up to meet his hands as he gets himself off.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you in the locker room? Wanna wear my varsity jacket so everyone knows who you belong to?”

Apollo bites his lip and stares down at his fist as it stretches the front of his panties with every pull.

“Can’t bring myself to take these off, they’re too pretty. Just gonna have to --” He cuts himself off with a high-pitched whimper, and his thighs snap shut as he works himself over faster.

“Fuck -- _baby_ ,” He moans, blushing all the way down to his chest. “You make Daddy so hard. Make me wanna -- _ungh_ \--”

He freezes, his jaw dropping open as his hips tremble. His thighs flex as he comes apart, little breathy whines reverberating through the speakers. He bites his lip, pulling at his cock all the way through it. He cries out as he finishes, panting hard and bent over at the waist.

“Jesus…” His voice sounds totally fucked-out.

Harry’s plan was to get off _while_ watching Apollo, but he’s been too transfixed by him to actually do anything. By this point, his cock’s fully hard and drooling onto his tummy, even though he’s barely touched it.

Onscreen, Apollo laughs softly. “Fuck. Gonna have to do some laundry.”

He grins wryly and lets his legs fall open, revealing a dark, wet spot at the front of his panties and a few drops of come flecked over his golden tan tummy. Harry very nearly dies on the spot, staring at Apollo’s stained panties and his shy smile.

Thankfully, though, Apollo blows a kiss to the camera and gives his audience a flirty wave. “That was fun, boys. I should start wearing themed things more often, hm?”

He leans closer to the camera - so close Harry can see how long his lashes are - and winks. “G’night.” With that, the video screen cuts to black.

As if on cue, Harry's cock pulses against his tummy. "I know, I know," He sulks.

He turns onto his side and whines quietly, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout. It’s been a while since his bed felt this cold and empty. He whimpers again, snuggling down into the sheets, but the wind whips against his window panes and makes him shiver.

He's aching and lonely in more ways than one. If he was thinking more sensibly, he’d at least _try_ to get off with his hand first, but Apollo has got him too desperate to wait tonight. Instead, he pouts even more and tugs the pillow out from under his head, shoving it between his legs.

It's too fucking easy to get close - he's been getting off like this for years and years. He starts by grinding his hips in little circles, toes flexing and unflexing in the sheets. He whimpers softly, feeling sorry for himself because he wants to be rubbing off on a pretty boy instead of his pillow.

It's soft and gentle when he gets close; a blush colors his cheeks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He sighs, rocking his hips down against the soft fabric. “ _Yeah_ ,” He whines again, gnawing at his bottom lip.

"Mm - mmph --" His hips stutter as he ruts against it a little too roughly. That's when he finally lets himself think about Apollo, because as soon as he starts to picture him, like, anywhere remotely _near_  himself, he has to bite his lip to keep from coming on the spot.

"Mm, mm, mm --" He whimpers desperately when he imagines Apollo behind him, fucking into him until he cries.

" _Say my name, baby,_ " Apollo tells him in his head.

That image proves to be too much for Harry's cock to handle. He can barely whimper out "Daddy" before he shallowly fucks against the pillow for a few seconds, thrusting his hips as fast as his body will let him. He cries out pitifully as the burning heat in his tummy boils over.

" _Oh_ \- mm -- _Daddy_ ,"  He sobs, come soaking into his pillow and splattering his tummy and thighs. Pleasure washes over him again and again, quivering through his belly and leaving him shaky and teary-eyed. 

 "Oh my god," He sighs to the ceiling, utterly winded and exhausted. In a matter of minutes, he's passed out again, dreaming of being Apollo's clumsy, nerdy high school boyfriend and sucking him off behind the bleachers.

* * *

 

When Harry gets dressed for work in the morning, he fishes something out of the very back corner of his dresser drawer. They’re supposed to be just for special occasions - a pair of expensive, lacy pink panties.

He’d bought them for himself on a trip to Paris last year for his birthday, but he’s yet to wear them anywhere. No special occasions have been special enough to warrant them, but Apollo's inspired him to finally try them out.

Once he’s slid them on, he drops to his knees and shoves his hand under his mattress, feeling around for the familiar slip of knit fabric. He pulls out a pair of black knit thigh-high socks. These he’s worn before, and not just under his clothes to keep warm in the cold London winters.

He wears them sometimes when he wants to feel soft and delicate, or when he wants to feel naughty. He’s spent more than a few nights rutting desperately against his pillows, lost in the feeling of the soft fabric pulled tight over his thighs.

Normally, he'd never wear these things together - it'd make him feel too, like, feminine or something. Too vulnerable, too fragile, too delicate. Too pretty.

Something's humming in the back of his head, though, making him think. All of the Daddies that Harry's seen on porn sites have been hairy and muscly and foreboding - never soft and delicate. Still, he didn't think twice about calling Apollo "Daddy", even though Apollo is the opposite of those masculine men. With Apollo's lovely pink blankets, and his cotton panties, and his pink striped socks, Harry's still desperate for him to fuck him until all he can do is cry and whine, "Daddy". 

He doesn't have the time to get hard before he has to leave, so he shoves the thought from his head for the time-being and checks himself over one last time in the mirror. 

“Pretty,” Harry breathes to himself, admiring his legs and bum. "'M pretty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this update! I really loved how the smut turned out, although it's killing me to have to keep typing "Apollo" instead of "Louis", haha. I promise more progress will be made between H and L in the next chapter! I'll update soon, since I have most of it written already. Be nice, be good :-)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's phone buzzes noisily.
> 
>  **Louis:** you naughty little thing... getting off at work, aren't you?
> 
>  **Harry:** can't help it, you got me so fucked up
> 
>  **Louis:** show me
> 
> Harry doesn't have the patience to make it look nice - he just shoves his trousers down to his knees and gasps softly when his cock snaps wetly up to his tummy. 
> 
> He takes the picture and sends it off; Louis responds ten seconds later.
> 
>  **Louis:** the things I'd do to that cock if I could get my hands on it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, friends!! I LOVED writing this chapter - sexting/phone sex is so fucking fun to write, haha. Hope you enjoy this update!! 
> 
> a disclaimer that sending your location to a stranger is obviously not safe in general, even if it's done through Grindr!

The workday drags on and on, endless and more boring with every passing hour. Harry gets yelled at by no less than four customers about the price of an item, and he gets called a nasty name by a middle-aged mother (with her baby in tow). Suffice it to say that he’s checked out and pissy by 10 AM.

After spending his first 15-minute break taking a power nap in the back room, his boss assigns him to stocking the cereal aisle. The shelves are totally empty, of course, because that's just how the day's going.

Twenty minutes into his task, Harry _should_ be facing boxes, but what he's actually doing is surreptitiously scrolling through Grindr whenever no one’s looking.

An elderly lady taps him on the shoulder, and he rushes to hide his phone - and the dick pic that's taking up the screen. 

“Excuse me, young man - where on earth is the oatmeal?”

The oatmeal is directly in front of them - literally at the customer's eye level - but Harry dutifully points it out as calmly as possible. The lady takes four boxes and gives him a thin-lipped smile before walking away without thanking him.

Sighing, Harry goes back to his Grindr. He pulls up another profile, and nearly drops dead, right there in front of the Coco Pops.

On the screen of his iPhone is a photo of a man with very familiar feathery brown hair and a pretty pink blush rising in his cheeks. A quick swipe through his other pics reveals several more devastatingly gorgeous topless shots. Grindr tells Harry that his name is _Louis_ \- a regal, royal name that’s fitting for someone Harry only knows as KingApollo. Louis is clearly proud of that fact, as he should be - the link to his camboy site is pasted prominently in his profile. 

He does his best to brush aside how fucking _crazy_ this is and opens up a new conversation with him. Even though Harry's heart is crawling into his throat with nerves, he immediately types out a "hiiiii". Before anything else can happen, though, the gruff voice of his boss rings through the aisle, telling him he's needed at the register.

Sure enough, there's a line of about 15 people at the store's single till - and at the very front of it is the little old lady with her oatmeal. Harry steels himself and slaps a fake smile on his face. 

The next hour of his shift drags by in a haze of price-checking and bagging groceries in paper and plastic. His phone vibrates in his pocket halfway through, letting him know that Louis has sent him a message back. Fuck - Harry doesn't even know what to expect. All he can think about is what it might say. Does Louis like him?? Does Louis think he's weird? Does Louis think he's, like, unattractive? Can Louis just  _tell_ that Harry's inexperienced??

It's way too eager, but as soon as the line tapers off, he excuses himself to run to the storage room. He shuts himself inside, in the back next to the holiday decorations, and breathlessly opens the app.

 **Louis:** hello, you

 **Louis:** love those pretty lips of yours

Harry's cock twitches in his trousers, and he whines quietly. The rub of his thigh highs against his legs is feeling dirtier by the second, and fuuuuuuck - Louis loves his pretty lips, oh my _god.._.

 **Harry:** thank you!! 

He cringes at his own enthusiasm, then hurriedly sends another message before he can chicken out.

 **Harry:** this is a bit forward but you're really really hot

An ellipsis pops up as Louis types his response.

 **Louis** : thank you, sweetheart

 _Sweetheart -_ dear god, dear god, dear god...

 **Louis:** what are you looking for, honey? casual?

A loud knock sounds on the door, and Harry doesn't have time to answer any way except honestly.

 **Harry:** I'm looking for whatever you're looking for

The knock echos through the room again, and Harry squeaks and drops his phone back in his apron pocket. He rushes past his confused boss and back out to the till. 

He's carefully arranging a customer's massive order of strawberries in various shopping bags when his phone buzzes again. He swallows thickly and tries to concentrate on stacking the produce, but curiosity gets the better of them. 

"Just a moment, ma'am - I need to get some more bags!" He lies. 

Miming the "one second" gesture, he drops to his knees on the linoleum and ducks below the counter to check his phone.

 **Louis:** even if that includes a pic of my cock for you to toss off to? ;-)

Harry's hand shoots out and he grips the cool wood of the counter, heartbeat racing.

"Holy -- oh, _fuck_ \--" He splutters under his breath, cheeks heating up. His panties are already getting tight over his cock. This is taking way too long to pass as "getting more bags", so he rushes to type a response.

 **Harry:** is it wrong if I say yes even tho I'm at work?

He composes himself as best as possible and stands, but the customer still eyes him suspiciously when he comes back up empty-handed. 

"Have a nice day, ma'am!" He calls when he's handed her the receipt, but his voice cracks. His phone buzzes in his pocket. He hasn't even looked at the message, but the possibility that it contains a picture of Louis' cock is sending a rush of aching heat to his groin. 

The next customer steps up with an assortment of - fittingly - zucchinis and cucumbers. It's comical, like a scene out of a fucking porno or something, Jesus Christ.

"Doing some, um - cooking?" He asks politely as he puts the produce into a bag.

The man just shrugs. "Sure."

Harry's phone buzzes in his pocket again and he swallows loudly, knowing what's probably waiting for him. Blood rushes to his cock and he blanches as he recognizes himself getting hard in his pants - shit, shit, _shit -_ not here, not now! It's not even a semi yet, but it's well on its way if this keeps up.

The woman who's next in line has a massive order, one that'll take Harry at least ten minutes to ring up and bag, so he decides he deserves to take a peek at his messages. 

"Just have to make a quick call, miss! Will only take a second!"  He smiles politely at her, then turns around and rushes to the landline on the back counter.

The facade is so fucking obvious - he doesn't even take the time to dial a number - but he couldn't give less of a fuck right now. He angles his body so no one can see that he's actually checking his iPhone.

"Hi, can I speak to the manager?" He says casually to the dial tone as he pulls up Grindr and scrolls to the first message.

 **Louis:** naughty... I like it 

 **Louis:** lucky for you I'm at work too

Harry turns back and holds up one finger to the customer at the till, heart pounding in his throat. Blood rushes in his ears. He swallows loudly and breathes a halfhearted "yes, sure" to the dial tone before opening the attached image. 

" _Oh,_ " He whines softly when he sees it.

The picture is a full-body shot. Louis is seated in his pretty pink blankets, legs open. He's wearing a cock ring, and his cock is all flushed and as hard as it can get with the ring on. His tummy is glistening with pre-come, and his smile - barely visible at the top of the picture - is flirty and coy. 

Harry's gonna die on the spot - or at least come in his panties, or something equally as embarrassing. He stares slack-jawed at the picture for so long that Louis sends him another message.

 **Louis:** you're getting hard at work, aren't you? what a bad boy

Harry tries to choke back his moan as best as possible. He realizes with a pang of embarrassment that he hasn't even said anything to the "manager" he's supposedly talking to, so he mumbles a "thanks, bye" and hangs up, then hurriedly types back a message.

 **Harry:** yes, fuck

He's absolutely certain that his eyes are glassy as he whirls back to face the customer, but he's too busy daydreaming about Louis' gorgeous cock to care.

The next couple of transactions pass by on autopilot - Harry doesn't even know what he _says_ to the customers. He just keeps concentrating on the two consecutive buzzes that vibrate in his pocket.

A few minutes later, another vibration hums against his tummy. Gulping thickly, he presses his hips against the edge of the counter in an attempt to keep himself from getting harder than he already is. Unfortunately, it has the opposite effect. His eyes flutter shut, jaw dropping imperceptibly at the sensation. Thoughts of Louis swirl through his brain.

Stupid, stupid, stupid - why the fuck did he think that would help? The rough friction is far too close to the feeling of rutting against his mattress. He forces himself to keep a straight face and greets the following customer in a reedy, cracking voice. 

What he does next is, like, completely horrible - Harry's a _good_ boy, he's a nice boy, he doesn't do stuff like this. And yet, he finds himself rocking his hips against the counter with building urgency as the minutes pass.

By the time he's done with the transaction, he's hard enough that there's definitely a wet spot in his panties and a noticeable bulge at the front of his trousers. 

He gets halfway through the next customer's order before he can't take it anymore. He doesn't even have an excuse this time - just turns his back and pulls out his phone. He scrolls back to the first two messages, both sent 13 minutes ago. 

 **Louis:** mmm you just got me 100 times harder, baby

 **Louis:** I bet you wanna touch yourself so bad rn, don't you? wanna play with your cock?

Harry has to disguise his resulting choked moan as a cough, but it's obvious that he's ruined and whining. The most recent message was sent 3 minutes ago. It's got a picture attached to it - oh, _fuck_.

 **Louis:** oops ;-)

The attached image is of Louis' pretty tan chest. His nipples are ridiculously hard, as is his cock - Harry's mouth literally _waters_ at the sight. The centerpiece of the picture is the translucent pearly ribbons of come that are all down Louis' tummy. He's fucking covered in it - must've came so hard from wearing the cock ring. Harry searches the picture for the offending object, but he doesn't have to look far for it. At the top of the frame, Louis is holding the cock ring cheekily between his teeth. _Jesus Christ, Mary, and Joseph._

Harry slumps imperceptibly back against the counter, cock steadily drooling pre-come in his pants.

"I -- um --" He manages halfheartedly, trying to give an excuse to the poor customer who's just trying to get their groceries. It's hopeless; Harry can't tear his eyes away from the image he's hunched over. He just...does not have the energy or willpower to turn around and pretend that this isn't happening to him. 

"Toilet," He says vaguely to no one in particular and rushes between the aisles toward the employee restroom, leaving a line of 8 customers at the till. 

He locks the door behind himself and knocks his head lightly back against the cool tile, hazily typing back a response. All he can manage is:

 **Harry:** fuck

He gulps and glances down at his crotch, where he's  _very_ hard in his pants. The thought hadn't even occurred to him earlier, but now he doesn't know how he'll be able to get off - he's gonna have to make do since there's no pillows to fuck here. His phone buzzes.

 **Louis:** you naughty little thing... getting off at work, aren't you?

 **Harry:** can't help it, you got me so fucked up

 **Louis:** show me

Harry doesn't have the patience to make it look nice - he just shoves his trousers down to his knees and gasps softly when his cock snaps wetly up to his tummy. It's _so_ swollen, fucking throbbing with arousal. This is easily the hardest he's ever been in his life. He hisses as he wraps his hand loosely around the base of it, then takes the picture and sends it off. Louis responds ten seconds later.

 **Louis** : mmm

 **Louis:** you've got such a pretty cock, kitten

 **Louis:** the things I'd do to that cock if I could get my hands on it...

Harry sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and bites at it, hard. 

 **Harry:** god I wish you were here to help me

He whimpers desperately, waiting for Louis to respond.

 **Louis:** you're okay, I can help

 **Louis:** how do you need it, honey?

Harry stares down at his cock as it twitches under his gaze. He knows exactly how he needs it. 

 **Harry:** rough

 **Harry:** quick please please please

Thank god - Louis comes through.

 **Louis:** use the heel of your palm, press down til it almost hurts

Harry follows his instructions, goosebumps raising all over his body as he grinds his palm against his cock. The first pass makes him rock his hips up into his hand - it's clear that he won't last long like this. He uses the last of his willpower to type out a response, then tosses his phone into the empty sink.

 **Harry:** yes yes yes

 **Harry:** that's it, oh fuck

He gets into a rhythm immediately, scrubbing his palm down the length of his cock over and over again. Heat swirls in his belly, nudging him closer and closer to the edge. The strokes are sloppy and slick - his cock's so wet with pre-come that it slips against his palm. He bites his lip harder, thinking about Louis' cock -- no, about Louis teasingly holding the cock ring between his teeth -- oh, fuck -- _oh_ , fuck --

Suddenly, his phone buzzes noisily against the sink and interrupts him, dragging him back from the edge of release by the skin of his teeth. He whines poutily, grinding against his wrist as he leans forward to check it.

 **Louis:** thinking about my cock, baby? thinking about how hard I was for you, how much I came for you?

Harry tosses his arm over his eyes and full-on sobs, too overwhelmed by Louis to do anything but hump desperately up against his hand. He's coming before he can even get a good pass in, painting ribbons all over his tummy.

"L-Louis - _Louis_ \--" He whimpers, rocking his hips and squeezing himself so that he comes even harder. 

It has him so drained and exhausted that he has to lean against the tile to get back down to earth. His phone vibrates again, twice.

 **Louis:** knew that'd do the trick ;-)

 **Louis:** gonna show me or what?  

Harry makes a soft sound and sleepily takes a picture of the come slopped all over his tummy and his softening, sensitive cock. It's obvious how desperate he is, what with his pants shoved down to his knees and traces of come drying on the hem of his work shirt, but fuck it. Louis'll probably love it. 

 **Louis:** god you're so naughty, getting yourself off at work because you just can't wait any longer

 **Louis:** I bet you moaned my name when you came, didn't you? wish I could've heard it in person

It's literally the stupidest and most dangerous thing Harry could do in this situation, but he decides to just _live_ for once - to stop being the sheltered virginal baby that he's always been. He doesn't let himself think twice before he clicks "send location" and shoves his phone in his back pocket so he can start cleaning up the mess he made.

* * *

The rest of the day passes in an orgasm-induced daze. All the mean customers in the world couldn't shake Harry from his state of bliss. Louis doesn't respond to Harry's location message, which would usually make Harry sick with anxiety and nervousness, but today he doesn't even worry about it. Can't be arsed, what with how fucking  _good_ he feels. 

He's replacing the paper in the register when the bell on the door chimes. 

“Excuse me, could you help me?”

Harry sighs inwardly and his grip tightens on the roll of receipt paper he's holding. He turns around, pasting a fake smile on his face. It drops a nanosecond later as he takes in who’s standing in front of him, smug grin and all.

“Hi,” Louis tells him, adding a flirty wink. “I’m looking for condoms - d’you have any here?”

Harry gapes and fish-mouths for an embarrassing amount of time. 

"I - um -- I -" He glances back at his boss, who's distractedly doing a crossword puzzle in the side office.

Louis raises his eyebrows. "So? Condoms?"

Harry swallows dryly around the lump in his throat. Holy fucking - Jesus -- _god_ -

Not only is Louis real and, like, alive, and not only did he make Harry come hours prior, but he’s standing right in front of him. Harry forces himself to pull his shit together. 

“Um. Y-yeah, mate, they’re just, uh, behind the counter here.”

Louis gives him a sweet smile. “Lovely.”

Harry gratefully turns around so he can hide how much he’s blushing. He tries to focus on being professional, but the next question he has to ask is making that very hard indeed.

“Um, w-what size do you want?”

He hears Louis lean across the counter. Then, in a flirty whisper - “Don’t you know already?”

Harry glances nervously down at his own crotch. From what he’s seen, Louis is a little smaller than he is, but quite a bit thicker. His hand hovers over a box of size larges in the normal type, but Louis interrupts him.

“Ah ah ah.”

Light footsteps sound closer and closer, and suddenly Harry feels hot breath wash over his neck.

Louis leans in to whisper in his ear. “I like the textured ones, love.”

A bead of sweat forms at the nape of Harry’s neck and his cheeks get even hotter.

“Okay,” He says in a small voice, grabbing the type Louis wants and turning to put them on the counter. “Will that be all today?”

Louis smiles innocently up at him. “Not quite.” He casually walks back around the front of the counter and leans smoothly against it.

“I was actually hoping to get a date tonight,” He sighs, slowly tracing one delicate finger along the edge of the counter.

Harry swallows nervously, palms sweaty. “Yeah?”

Louis nods. “Yeah. D’you know where I could find one?”  

Thank god there's nobody else in the store - Harry decides to get brave again, though he has no idea where the uncharacteristic courage is coming from.

"Right here."

Louis lifts his eyebrows, impressed. "Oh?" His mouth twitches into a smirk.

Then his voice drops lower, more private. "You want me to take you out, baby?"  

Harry gulps, heartbeat picking up speed. "I like the way you say that." The words just fall out of his mouth - they're not even an answer to Louis' question. 

A grin plays at Louis' lips. "Say what, honey?"

"Baby," Harry whispers, blushing deeper.  

Louis breaks into a full smile at that, grinning widely to himself. He shakes his head, like he's in happy disbelief or something. "God, you..."

"What?"

Louis shakes his head again, still smiling. "Nothing." He meets Harry's eyes, serious again. "Will you let me take you out, baby?" 

Harry glances nervously at the side office as the bell on the door dings again, announcing the arrival of another customer. "I get off at six."

That's a little more than an hour from now.

Louis' eyes flash darker and his grin twists into a smirk. "Is that so?" He murmurs, clearly capitalizing on the innuendo. 

Harry glances down at his crotch, willing his cock to stay soft, then looks back up at Louis. "Yeah," He breathes. 

Louis shrugs. "Guess I'll just have to wait for you, hm?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!! I loved writing this chapter. I've got most of the next chapter already written since I divided this one in half - it's a good one, if I do say so myself. It'll probably go up tomorrow night or the next night. Happy New Year, friends! All of your kudos and comments and bookmarks mean the world to me. I'm so glad I made this account back in the summer - this year of writing has been wonderful and healing for me, and I'm so happy to share it with you all. be nice, be good :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed! :-) Updates coming soon. Please leave me a comment and/or kudos if you liked this, your feedback helps me know what you like to read! Another shameless plug for my older work "precious little thing" - I was recently revealed as the author, but I wrote it awhile ago so it's a ways down on my account. Please check it out if you want to read more of what I write! See you again soon. Be nice, be good :-)


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